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9:00 am - November 23, 2003 A bit dehydrated, a very tired resistivity climbed out of bed and dragged myself to the kitchen for a glass of water. Seeing that we had left the grape juice out on the counter, my lethargic self and I decided to put it back in the refrigerator. "Hello hand and gripping function, this is brain speaking. Um, fuck you." Then CRASH! Splash! glug glug glug glug. There was grape juice all over the floor. And I say floor, I mean that it dropped right by the edge of the kitchen and splahed back, hitting the following places: 1. A huge puddle in the living room. 2. The entire length of the kitchen including all the cabinets where we keep pots and pans. 3.The dish washer, the front of the oven and the broiler drawer. 4. About 1/4 of a gallon all aross the floor and in our nasty grouted areas that are very very hard to clean. 5. And last, but certainly not least, all the way up both of my legs just to mid-thigh. A grape juice massacre. I didn't really know whether to laugh or cry or yell shit over and over again. So I did none of the above. I will spare you the details of how I cleaned it all up ("Look honey, now we have purple towels!"). It should be sufficient to say that I have had better nights and that we can at least tell people who visit that we were in the kitchen practicing very intricate designs for our special henna tatto business when we were moved by the gods to decorate the entire kitchen.
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